


we will meet in dreams, my beloved

by blindbatalex



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Boston Bruins, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mutual Pining, but again only in dreams, kureinen, leaf hate, listen i have no idea what happened here but it happened, lots of dreams, so now you have 4+ k of crack, some mentions of violence and minor character death, take it from my hands, uhh dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindbatalex/pseuds/blindbatalex
Summary: “You are hurt,” the angel says and the rib Danton must have broken stabs him at the words, “let me carry you.”Danton nods. If he had any shame it melts at the angel’s smile; there is something unspeakably beautiful about it, something positively mesmerizing and the angel’s arms hold a surprising amount of strength for how slim they are as they scoop Danton up and fuck- maybe he died in the attack and this is what his heaven is like.He wakes up panting. His cock is hard and wet with precome and it is said you have seen every face that appears in your dreams somewhere in real life but he is pretty sure it isn’t supposed to be the face of his friend and teammate and- Fuck.





	we will meet in dreams, my beloved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fridgefish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridgefish/gifts), [goldenpuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenpuno/gifts).



> For Therese, because you rock and you inspired me to write this. Please don't fling me into the sun for the fic's stance on the bottom/verse discourse.  
> And for Jason. Please accept this as sort of an interest payment on your birthday fic, because the actual thing I am writing for you is trying to murder me atm and I didn't want you to wait a whole month so I finished this instead. You don't need me to tell you how much you rock and how much I appreciate your friendship! <3
> 
> Rest of dear readers, please mind the tag for brief mentions of violence and minor character death, though they are both non-graphic and in dreams.

Danton is not a man of violence. He doesn’t shy away from the physical nature of the game, the checks, and he enjoys a good action movie as much as the next guy, but he is hardly one to drop his gloves or even get any real enjoyment out of it when others on his team do.

And yet when Sean pulls Bowey down in that disgrace of an opening night, when he watches Sean drop his gloves and destroy the bastard from the bench there is this heat that pools in his stomach at the sight, a jolt that courses through his body unbidden. It’s odd and out of place and he decides it must be because someone finally fucking did something in a disaster of a game, convinces himself he feels exactly the same way when Brad tears down Eller later at the very end. 

He decides never to think of it or that night again ever. Life is all about moving on.

*

He dreams he is being attacked by demons that night. There are two of them, creatures so grotesque with fangs and sharp decaying teeth and a wet sickly shine to crimson skin that the sight of them makes Danton sick. They have him cornered. Danton screams, they laugh and laugh, hyenas toying with their prey, and God he is going to die here in a back alley won’t he, alone and helpless.

Except.

Just when Danton thinks he is done for there is a poof! a flash of blinding heavenly light and when Danton can see again there stands a man, _no_ , an angel where before there was only darkness.

He is tall and he has majestic wings behind him of white feathers, and the demons know they are done for before he so much as moves a finger.

“I am Seaghan, an angel of the God and I command you to go back to the hole you crawled out of!” the angel thunders as he walks swiftly, majestically, towards them.

He doesn’t seem to be a big believer in freedom of choice though because he yanks one demon up and throws him against the wall before giving it a chance to listen and scatter. The other realizes its predicament pretty quickly at that and uses the moment to attack, throws an uppercut that lands on the angel’s face. Surprised, the angel staggers back but it leaves Danton free to move and he lunges himself at the demon, unthinking, tackles it to the ground. When the demon has had the time to recover, which is really an unfortunately short amount of time - damn how fast they are - Danton gets a kick to his side that knocks the air out of his lungs, a claw to his arm that tears the flesh and burns and burns. Then though, there is a grotesque yelp, a snap, and a thud of a limp body hitting a floor. There are no more kicks or claws. Danton pants where he is splayed on the asphalt, head between his arms.

A gentle hand touches his shoulder.

“Dear lovely human, are you alright?” the voice asks, where it brimmed with righteous anger moments ago it is now soft and kind.

Danton pulls himself together to sit up. The angel is crouched beside him, he is gorgeous in a way only a heavenly being can be, in a way Danton has never seen before, and looking into his beautiful brown eyes, Danton has never been more alright.

“You are hurt,” the angel says and the rib Danton must have broken stabs him at the words, “let me carry you.”

Danton nods. If he had any shame it melts at the angel’s smile; there is something unspeakably beautiful about it, something positively mesmerizing and the angel’s arms hold a surprising amount of strength for how slim they are as they scoop Danton up and fuck- maybe he died in the attack and this is what his heaven is like. 

*

He wakes up panting. His cock is hard and wet with precome and it is said you have seen every face that appears in your dreams somewhere in real life but he is pretty sure he isn’t supposed to-

Fuck.

Danton takes a moment to regulate his breathing. Then with a groan he peels himself off from the bed, heads to the bathroom for a cold shower, and renews his resolution to never think of this night ever again.

No sir.

*

And it almost works too, for what it’s worth.

He avoids Sean for a couple of days, probably blushes around him a little for a week but at the end of the day it’s okay. Probably the worst are the looks Torey keeps giving him, Torey who was in the next room over in that night Danton won’t think about, and Danton has to remind himself that even if he talked in his sleep the wall would have muffled any actual words, that he is safe.

Sometimes everyone has weird… _action_ dreams about people they see often when they are stressed. It’s no biggie.

*

He is doing so well in not being stuck in the past and moving forward when they play the Senators again. Danton is on the bench when Sean gets mauled by Harpur. Sean tries, he really does but he never gets to take his left glove off and never gets a good grip on the guy and when he hits the ice face first and remains motionless for a fraction of a second Danton’s heart drops to his stomach. 

Sean is thankfully alright, considering, he jokes and chirps about his broken nose and subpar fighting skills and falls asleep on Danton’s shoulder in a heartbeat on the plane. Danton strokes his hair - it’s incredible how well he can pull of highlights and how his hair always sticks out in twenty different directions at once - and Sean settles further at the contact, smiles faintly. Danton lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Sean is alright and it must be the painkillers because Sean never falls asleep on the plane, never on his arm, but here he is now, out like a light and snoring a little. There was a night like this in China when they had too much to drink and their roles were reversed. Danton fell asleep on Sean’s arm on the car ride back to the hotel and when he looked up there Sean was smiling at him, drunk and happy and soft, and Danton thought- if he surged up now- Sean’s lips were so very red and full and pretty. He didn’t think afterwards.

*

This time they are super spies. They are in an airplane hangar of some sort, the massive space is empty and foreboding and dark save for a couple fluorescent lights that flicker on and off. Shawn, his partner, is holding a flashlight in between his teeth and their hands clash as they work on a compact black box with lots and lots of wires. Danton thinks about how nice Shawn’s long graceful fingers feel brushing against his, what other uses he would like to put those fingers to the moment they are out of here before he remembers-

Fuck.

That’s a nuclear bomb they are trying to disarm.

If they fail, and the ticker is below a minute and a half now and there are _so many wires_ , the unthinkable will happen and the Leafs will win the Stanley Cup. It’s hard to breathe for a moment knowing that the fate of the free world is in their hands, that they are the last line of defense against an unspeakable horror, but Danton is built for those moments. He has been trained since birth to be a super spy and he does not crack under pressure, no sir.

Their nights of a lot passionate love making and little sleep must be catching up to them though, because neither notice the evil L.E.A.F. agents that sneaked in until the one that is all a vast expanse of a forehead has Shawn in a chokehold, and the one that resembles a blonde Yeti is tickling his feet.

“Shawn!” The word tears itself from the back of Danton’s throat with urgency and concern but Shawn won’t have any of it. He elbows the Forehead and tells Danton to focus on the bomb, that he’s got this even as he squirms and succumbs to helpless giggles under the Yeti’s foot torture. 

Danton doesn’t think about how well the L.E.A.F organization trains their spies in the dark arts of tickling, tunes out Shawn’s blood-curdling, breathless laughter, as he focuses on disarming the bomb. The timer is counting down from fifty two seconds now but he cuts the fifth red wire from the top and then the second blue wire from the bottom and for a moment he is sure he fucked it up but then the timer stops and the device powers down.

When he turns to save his partner in business and love he finds the two L.E.A.F. agents limp on the floor and Shawn smiling triumphantly between them. He has a shiner and a bloody nose and you can see the lingering pain from the vicious tickling he was subject to in his eyes but he’s alright.

Overwhelming relief washes over Danton. He is more than alright. They did it. The two of them saved the free world.

“Did you know I fucking love you?” he asks Shawn when there is no space between them whatsoever and he is tracing the damage to Shawn’s nose - broken but Danton has seen worse - with a gentle hand.

Shawn grins at him. His highlights look fucking stellar even in the terrible light of the hangar and in the next moment Danton is being pulled into a kiss, hard and passionate and ecstatic and fucking incredible. 

Normally they would wait until they were back at the hotel but there is literally no one in the hangar and they just saved the world damnit. Sean gets to have him wherever he wants and however he wants.

*

He wakes up panting. The front of his jeans are tenting and there is the ghost of a lingering touch on his lips and on his back from the dream, and what the fuck-? 

What the actual fuck.

Next to him Sean is asleep, _safe_ , his head bouncing gently against the window. Danton turns around to look. The plane is dark and quiet; very few people are awake and of those no one seems to pay him attention, thank fuck. 

Except for Torey, who meets his eye and frowns pointedly before he looks away. Danton feels his cheeks burn with shame but all in all he will take it; it could be so much worse.

*

The thing is, if he wanted to think about his dreams and if he wanted to think about how much at ease he feels around Sean and his pretty lips and his stellar highlights, which he really doesn’t, it still doesn’t make a fucking difference.

For one, he has no evidence that Sean is into guys. 

For two, even if miracle of miracles Sean was gay, there is no way Danton is dating a teammate. Being gay in the NHL is difficult enough as is, but office romances are just a recipe for disaster. One of his teammates in college - Josh - had tried to ask the captain out - they had been best friends before - the captain had told the story to everyone, and they had spent the year laughing about it. Danton hates himself to this day for the way he kept his head down and didn’t say anything but he remembers too. He remembers the frustration and the anger and the sheer sadness in Josh’s eyes everytime they would chirp him about it, how he just had to sit there and take it, and he remembers that he didn’t come back to the team the next season.

And, if none of that was enough, Sean doesn’t even want Danton to accompany him during his simple nose procedure, which speaks volumes to how he feels about their friendship, close but not _that_ close.

He sees Sean chatting with Chris in the lockers after practice the day before it and when he goes to join them hears Chris ask if 8am is a good time for him to come by the next morning.

Sean smiles and nods at him and Danton returns the greeting. Sean looks- well, again, Danton is not a man of violence, but.

“Actually might as well stay the night at mine, it will be easier that way,” Chris adds, drawing Danton from his thoughts and right into the conversation.

Sean looks a little hesitant. 

“I don’t know man. I’m imposing on you enough as is.”

“Whaaaat?” Chris’ voice goes sky high at the end. He wraps an arm around Sean’s shoulder before he adds, practically inches away from his face- “Anything for my bro, bro. No such thing.” He winks. “Plus, I’ve got a hot tub.”

Sean wraps an arm around him too at that, says he doesn’t know what he did to deserve friends like them, smiling ear to ear.

Danton wishes him good luck with the procedure and sort of ducks out. It’s fine. It’s a minor procedure, thankfully, Sean has no obligation to want him by his side, and Chris has a jacuzzi. It’s all fine. He is probably not very subtle in how quickly he flees the locker room but that’s fine too seeing as only Torey shakes his head and buries it in his hands as Danton leaves.

***

**DH: how is he?**

Danton types the text as soon as Sean’s procedure starts, or at 5am when he wakes up for no reason if he is being honest with himself, but waits to send it to the group chat until it’s scheduled to be over.

 _He is really sappy. I feel like I’m in a chick-flick here,_ comes the reply after a few moments. 

Danton laughs on an exhale. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath since he sent the text.

 _He’s been waxing poetic about his love for ketchup non-stop for the last five minutes_ , Chris adds with a laughing crying emoji.

 _Tell him I said hi_ , Danton types before he quickly deletes it. There is a quick succession of texts from their teammates, a mixture of relief and the chaotic brand of nonsense they work hard to perfect every day. 

**Cmac: That’s our goose boy.**

**Torey: ...which brand?**

**Zee: Good to hear. He is lucky to have a good friend like you by his side.**

**Bjorkie: One day he is going to spread his wings and fly. #FlyGooseBoyFly**

**Matt: wtf is that supposed to mean?**

**Marchy: One time Bergy was high as a kite and all he could talk about was his love for bears [three eyes emojis]**

**Bergy: We don’t talk about that. Also, did you just type “[three eyes emojis]”??**

The messages keep coming, quicker than Danton can respond to and Sean is fine, so he lets it be, as he often does with the group chat.

*

In his dream he is a burlesque dancer. He uses his body to make ends meet and dreams of one day working at a real club, where the customers are gentlemen with manners and his colleagues don’t get murdered right in their club.

But Danton loves his art, loves to feel the music in every fiber of his body as he strips, and if times are tough he is tougher.

The customers here are- well, they have had issues; mostly a certain kind of men visit a seedy club like theirs. Danton especially doesn’t trust the fella sitting alone by himself on a first row table tonight, not when he can feel him look at Danton funny during the performance and definitely not afterwards when he surprises Danton in the back alley.

He springs from the shadows he was lurking in and grasps Danton by the arm, tells him they need to speak.

But Danton fights a mean fight, he learned that long ago to survive even if he takes no joy of it, and with a knee to his balls and a few punches the man is writhing on the ground in pain.

“I, wait-” he tries to say, but Danton kicks him in the ribs, once, twice- knocking the air out of his lungs before he can finish.

“That was for Jake, our Queen of Whipped Cream,” Danton says with self-satisfaction. He will probably need to duck inside and use the telephone to call the police while making sure the bastard doesn’t escape but first he gets to enjoy the moment.

“That’s- aw- that’s exactly what I want to talk about,” the man replies, pulling himself up against the wall and with the hand that is not clutching at his ribs stretched forward. When Danton takes off a shoe and starts to close in on him, he adds hastily- 

“I mean you no harm. I’m with, here, reach into my front coat jacket, I’m with the FBI.”

Danton regards his slim frame for a moment, this man with his trenchcoat muddied, fedora trampled on the ground, with his wild hair sticking in all directions and even wilder eyes- but there is something calm about them too, despite the situation. While from the stage they had looked leering up close they seem to be genuine, kind. The eyes of an honest man, despite the shiner he is sporting, despite his better sense that tells Danton to turn around and run.

That’s why Danton listens and does as the other man asks, one hand balled into a fist and ready to punch just in case he tries something funny.

He doesn’t though. Just stands there against the wall, panting hard.

Danton angles the laminated ID card against the nearest street light.

“Name is Kuraleap,” the other man, the FBI agent says smokily, confirming what Danton reads, “Sean Kuraleap.”

“Well, Mr. Kuraleap,” Danton says, stepping back and suppressing a shiver. His jacket is by no means warm enough for this weather and his wallet not full enough to afford a better one. “Do you always surprise your witnesses in back alleys?”

Kuraleap laughs at that, and it’s a wild thing, driven out of him almost entirely by surprised, frazzled.

Danton wonders what his laughter sounds like, tangled in the sheets with the morning sun beating on their faces, or in the backyard of a house with a picket fence with his kid - does he have a kid? - running around.

“I don’t,” Kuraleap says, “I am very sorry for scaring you,” tells him that Jake was involved with some very bad people who killed him and who want everyone else involved dead too. But before he can finish his explanation he hisses in pain and doubles over, one hand pressing against his side and the other splayed against the wall for support. 

It comes back dark and wet- he is bleeding.

“Oh Mr. Kuraleap, did I-?” Danton asks with concern. He feels like a right bastard for the violence he inflicted on this beautiful man.

“No, I was already hurt,” Kuraleap assures him through gritted teeth, they already nearly got to him a couple of days back when he got too close. He smiles through the pain. “Please call me Sean.”

But then when he tries to straighten himself - no way that boy is _straight_ , Danton doesn’t think, because that is very inappropriate - he staggers and almost falls in but a few steps.

Danton thinks quickly. It would not do to let such a sweet, brave agent die. He catches up to Sean and puts an arm around his shoulder.

“Why don’t you come to my place?” he asks sweetly, “I will patch you up.” God knows he has patched his brothers up plenty of times, back when they still lived in Denver.

Sean looks at him with his brilliant eyes for a moment, hesitating. 

“Mr. Heinen I would not want to impose-”

“Oh sweetie, you wouldn’t be,” Danton says and maybe it’s only because Sean is desperate but he nods in agreement. 

Then he turns to face Danton, and holds his hand with his own bloodied one. 

“I think you were the one I was looking for all along,” he tells Danton, a complete non-sequitur but his eyes are soft and his smile is genuine and all Danton can do in the face of that is to utter a yes he means with all his heart.

Yes, yes-

*

“yes.” 

He wakes up on the word, in the solitude of his own dark living room. He takes around his surroundings and whines. He didn’t join his teammates for movies at Chris’ place, where Sean is spending tonight too and this is what he gets instead.

Though, Sean Kuraleap is pretty funny as a spy name when you think about it and at least he has enough ice cream to drown himself in self-pity for the night before he hits the reset button in the morning.

There is no use denying his feelings for Sean, but there is nothing he can do either, so.

*

He is halfway through the pint when his door rings. Danton shuffles to get it while still holding the tub close to his chest - who visits at this hour? - and nearly gets startled out of his skin when he finds a disgruntled Torey staring him down on the other side of the door.

“What the-”

Torey doesn’t let him finish, just tells him to get his coat. He looks pissed, and as if he has been woken up at the favorite part of his dream- and oh, he really meant it when he told Danton to grab his coat, changing out of his pyjamas or an explanation as to what’s happening be damned.

They have been driving for ten minutes, Torey’s fingers gripping around the steering wheel with Raskian rage, by the time Danton finally gathers his courage to ask where the fuck they are going.

“To Chris’” Torey says but doesn’t say anything else.

Right. That won’t be awkward at all. When he looks at his lap he realizes he took the ice cream tub with him too in his haste, now mostly melted goo, which is just the cherry on top. 

*

Chris is just as surprised to see them and so is Sean who follows close behind in his boxers. 

“Torey? Danny? What’s going on?” he asks, looking at Danton and Danton just shrugs in his best approximation of what the hell do I know. Bed head suits Sean so much, though whose bed he was sleeping in Danton would rather-

Torey all but drags him in by the collar, instead of offering an explanation.

“Chris,” he says once they are in the living room, “you are aware of the situation yes, since Sean trusted you to be by his side when he was coming off from anesthesia?”

Chris looks at Torey slack-mouthed, then to Sean and to Danton and finally back at Chris again. 

“I, uh-” he says, which Torey takes as an affirmation. 

Danton barely has time to ask himself _wait, which situation?_ let alone to either of them.

“Good, then you two can kiss and talk about your feelings.” Torey thunders on, “Because Sean, Danton likes you very much and won’t stop having these obnoxious, out there dreams about you-”

The words feel like an arrow to Danton’s heart, Boromir death scene in Lord of the Rings style. Sean is looking at him, wide-eyed, Danton can feel his cheeks burning thinking about tonight’s dream alone but there is no way-

“-and Danton, Sean really feels the same way because he too won’t stop dreaming about you. You are both such bottoms I have no idea how the sex is going to work but I’m sure you will find a way. Just. Figure it out.”

Done with his spiel he stops and exhales sharply, looking between the two of them.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” Danton offers after the most awkward moment of silence of his life and as a shy and awkward guy there has been more of those than he could count.

“Yeah Danton and I are just friends-” Sean corroborates and doesn’t that sting now, despite the craziness of the situation and all of Danton’s good sense.

_Just friends._

“You realize you sound, um-” Chris adds at which point Torey positively hisses. Really, Tuukka would be so proud of him right now if he was here.

“Look,” he says, “when I was a kid alright, I had telepathy. I could hear people’s thoughts in my head and it was very loud and scary. They took me to a bunch of doctors and they fucked me up okay, so I can’t anymore even if I want to. But. I can hear dreams and I can’t turn it off. Specifically, I can hear your dreams from the other side of the city because you are both fucking broadcasting. Christ-”

Danton leans forward on the part of the sofa he claimed, meets Sean’s eye.

“There is no such thing as-” he starts, keeping his voice calm and reasonable.

“Oh really?” Torey shoots back. “Name is Kuraleap, Sean Kuraleap? Is it?-”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. His entire face is on fire and Danton is going to die.

“And you-” Torey looks at Sean, “naked bed sharing to stave off hypothermia in a gorgeous ski cabin hm?”

Danton still can’t believe this is happening, how he will ever face his teammates, his mind going into overdrive thinking about every inappropriate dream he had about his teammate. Then though, Sean makes a strangled sound, Danton looks up and-

Sean is also blushing like crazy with his eyes glued on the floor.

Sean, who was dreaming...about having to share a bed with him while naked...who apparently annoyed Torey just as much as Danton did.

Who seems to be coming to a similar realization as he peels his eyes from the floor and meets Danton’s gaze halfway, bewildered and scared and well- with a strand of shared hope Danton himself would not dare voice until a minute ago.

“Can we uh- discuss this in private?” Danton asks, the first to be able to formulate words.

Torey nods and drags Chris into the kitchen but not before a final warning to figure it out.

Sean gets up and moves to the seat next to Danton once they have left.

“So that was awkward,” Sean laughs, awkwardly.

Danton resists the urge to lift his fingers and trace the edges of Sean’s black eye, before he realizes, well- he kind of can now. The cat is out of the bag.

And the reaction he gets, the surprise-smile-lean in, how warm and soft Sean’s skin is under his fingertips- his heart does a backflip in his chest. It’s not very difficult really, to lean in and find Sean’s lips with his own, and it’s better than even the wildest of his dreams would have him believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Kudos are appreciated but truly, comments are what make my day and keep me coming back to write more! I am on tumblr @blindbatalex if you want to come give a holler or drop a prompt.


End file.
